


Walkin’ With My Angel

by dopeyjoe



Category: Hanoi Rocks
Genre: Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dopeyjoe/pseuds/dopeyjoe
Summary: A short Nasty Suicide x gender neutral reader fic requested by anon. Based on early Hanoi years, either in late Stockholm or early London.
Relationships: Nasty Suicide (Hanoi Rocks)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Walkin’ With My Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the cheesiest fic I’ve EVER written so I sincerely apologise. It’s also my first x reader, but considering that I think I did pretty well. It’s very fluffy, with a little side of jealous!Sami. (You can decide for yourself if he’s jealous of Nasty or the reader, I honestly don’t know)

It was a cold night, snow was falling softly outside. Not that any of us knew that, the blinds were drawn and the curtains were shut, closing us into the deeply depressing and stuffy tomb that the apartment had become.  
“Jan, pass me the remote.” Sami didn’t usually sound that bitchy, stretched and tired. His whole body seemed to just shrink along with his mood as he sat there. Nobody really knew what had been bugging him all week, but he had gotten into plenty of drama with the guitarist lately.  
“It’s Nasty now, just call me Nasty. Or even Nasse, it’s not that hard!” Came an answer that sounded twice as pissed. I sat in the corner with my magazine, flipping trough the pages with greasy fingers with an empty box of pizza by me, sighing at the two. They were still basically children, and it was slightly infuriating. It was so dark I could barely even see the pictures, the only lights came from the TV and the small rugged lamp in the opposite corner.  
“Why am I the only member of this fucking band without a stupid made up name?” Sami groaned as he scrambled up from his seat to grab the remote himself, eyeing Nasty murderously as he did.  
”You’re so full of shit, you named yourself after a fucking soda!” He shot back.  
”I did not!”  
And I bit my lip, looking up from what happened to be a porno (because in that apartment, there were two types of literature: playboys and music magazines. Half of them were in finnish, but it was slightly amusing to guess what shit meant when you were high of your ass).  
”Just quit it, you’re both acting like children.” I muttered, raising my eyebrows at the two of them. Sami shook his head and rolled his eyes as a form of surrender, then fell back into the greasy armchair he had been nested in and changed the channel. Nasty turned to look at me, apologetic by the look of his eyes. Well, the little of his eyes I could see past the messy bangs.  
”Did you eat the last slice?” He asked, armrest of the couch blocking his eyes from seeing the pizza box that was sadly empty.  
”Yeah.”  
And I knew we could have ordered another one by phone, but then again, the boys were going crazy crammed in that apartment together like that. It was honestly a blessing that Andy lived with his girlfriend and Mike and Gyp had passed out drunk an hour ago. Whatever was going on with Sami, he probably needed a little space for at least that half an hour it would take for me and Nasty to fetch food from the pizzeria a block away.  
”Wanna go get a fresh box?” I asked, and he seemed to relax at the thought of getting out for a while.  
”Let’s go!”

It was so quiet. It seemed that the neighbours were always yelling, dogs were always barking, police sirens always echoed in the distance in that cheap neighbourhood. But that night, it was almost like everything had stopped. We walked down the greasy stairway, and trough the window of the platform balcony door I could see the snow for the first time. It was falling so silently, and the blue and orange and yellow lights of the filthy city streets were painting the dark stairway strangely beautifully. The stairs smelled like weed and vomit, but the strong scent of Nasty’s cigarettes that had stuck to his coat was balancing it a little bit as I walked close to him.  
”Thanks for taking me with you.” He spoke quietly, the echo of his boots hitting the shittily laminated floor almost drowning out his voice.  
”You looked like you needed a bit of fresh air.” I admitted, soft smile creeping up on my face.  
”You could have taken Sami. I mean, he’s the one acting up-” He started, but I huffed out a bit of air as if to tell him ’please don’t start this again’, and he stopped talking.  
”Maybe I needed an excuse to hang out with you alone. Just the two of us.”  
I added very softly as we reached the ground floor. I could sense from the way he sort of froze, he was probably having a quick bite sized mental breakdown. I knew he had feelings for me, or something along those lines. It was painfully obivous. And even if it wasn’t, Mike had told me about that one time after a show on their last tour where they had gotten very drunk and very high; it was very easy to get Nasty to spill his guts while on drugs, but that night the rest of the band hadn’t even provoked him. He had just gone on a rant about how great I was. And that’s very sweet, and I kind of wished that Mike wasn’t such a fucking gossip girl, because hearing it from Nasty himself would have been 100% more romantic.  
But at least now I knew that making a move myself wouldn’t end up shattering our friendship.  
I opened the front door for him, and he seemed a little weird as his fingers dug into his pocket for a smoke. The streets were luckily empty, lots of shady characters in that area, and he lit up a cigarette taking in a shaky puff.  
It wasn’t a long walk to the pizza place, less than five minutes, perfect for finishing a singular cigarette and bringing up subtile hints of attraction. The pavement was buried under a thin layer of fresh snow, only a handful of footprints had had time to stain it.  
”So, uh... why would you want to...” He stammered after finally soothing his nerves enough.  
”What, hang out with you? Dude, we’ve been friends for a long time and I never see you alone. It’s always Mike and Andy being loud, Sami and Gyp fucking around. I just think you’re great.” I tried to keep my tone cool. He was biting his lip so hard I wondered if it was bleeding- god damn, I never expected him to be that nervous.  
”Oh.” He swallowed, putting the cig back in between his thin lips for yet another puff. ”I think you’re great too.”  
And we walked for half a block in silence after that. It must have been nearing two in the morning by then, and the wind was digging under my coat.  
”Can I tell you something?” I eventually asked, and honestly felt kind of stupid about having such a weak opening line.  
”Yeah.” His voice hadn’t sounded as petrified since, well, since the boys were living on the streets.  
”I kind of like you. Like, a lot.” It was surprisingly hard keeping your voice calm and collected while your heart tries to beat it’s way out of your chest, I thought. And I wondered if I should stop walking and have this convo while standing still in the snowflall under a filthy street light, but it was so cold I figured we should just get to the restaurant and talk there. If we were going to talk at all, that was.  
”Oh-” He stammered again, and the amount of ash that had piled up at the end of his cigarette grew so heavy it fell off onto the snow in a big clump. And then he found no words to continue with, so for a good half a minute we just walked in silence again, and it was terrible.  
”I like you too.” He eventually said, and his voice was so bloody quiet it almost drowned under the crunch of the wet snow under our feet.

As we got to the pizzeria that by some miracle was open ’til 4 in the morning, under the yellow lights that flooded trough the window I could see his face properly for the first time. I went ahead to open the door for us again as he snuffed the burnt out cig with the toe of his boot, but stopped with my hand on the knob to block him from going in.  
”Look, Mike told me about the night on tour. Don’t be mad at him for it, I think he just meant well by telling me. I just don’t want this to be weird, ’cause I’ve liked you since forever.” I spoke softly again, now sure he could hear me as we were standing still.   
”Fucking Mike...” He hissed, but laughed it off with an additional ”It’s fine.”  
”So what are we going to do?” I asked, and honestly it was kind of scary. We were both basically still kids, just with drinking permits and a greasy lowlife apartment.  
”Well, I would kiss you, but the pizza guy is staring at us trough the window like a creep.” Nasty smiled as he spoke. God fucking damn it that smile. I glanced over my shoulder trough the window, where indeed the cashier stared at us intensively.  
”Shit. We should get that pizza then, maybe figure this out on our way back home?”  
”Sounds good.”

And we did just that, getting inside just for the warm air to make my face feel like melting. Sitting down by the window to wait for the pizza after ordering, he was staring at his boots as if afraid to look up at me. There were big snowflakes sticking to his black hair, slowly melting away. I wanted to reach out and comb them off with my fingers, but decided against it.  
Nobody else was in there at that hour, and I was glad to be spared from any more odd looks.  
”So, what’s with you and Sami?” I tried to keep the subject away from the disaster at hand to avoid the cashier’s seemingly curious gaze. The creepy guy must have gotten off on staring at random young adults romance on the street.  
”I dunno, he’s been weird for a few weeks. Maybe some prolonged teen angst.” He laughed.  
”Maybe he’s jealous?” I suggested, and he looked up from his shoes.  
”Of which of us?”  
”I don’t know. But it would add up, you know.” And it did make sense, his weird behaviour had started about the same time Nasty had tripped balls and told the band about his feelings for me.

The pizza was eventually ready, and we got back out into the cold streets. The wind had died down, but it was still softly snowing as we walked slowly back towards our street. I was holding the plastic bag with the pizza box inside with my right hand, and as my left was just dangling there, I thought fuck it.  
It seemed to take Nasty by surprise as my cold fingers brushed the edge of his palm, but he did relax eventually, allowing me to hold his hand.  
”Can I get that kiss now?” I asked, thumb stroking the back of his hand. He smiled, and his face could have been a little red for three reasons; the wind, the alcohol he had been drinking back in the apartment, or just simply nervousness.  
”Yeah.”  
And we stopped under that same greasy streetlight as almost before, and it was a very sweet kiss. Even though it kind of tasted like cigarettes and the lingering echo of booze and pizza.

That night was damn near perfect; there in the soft snowfall, I was walking with my angel.


End file.
